


Rapunzel

by draiochtaa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Do people even still ship wincest, Fluff, M/M, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, domestic Wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 17:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draiochtaa/pseuds/draiochtaa
Summary: Poor Sammy's hair is all tangled, and he's super stressed out about it. Dean just wants to help.





	Rapunzel

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a slut for domestic wincest so here's this garbage. They are very much together and very much in love.
> 
> The ending is slightly more angsty than I really meant for it to be but I assure you nothing bad happens and everyone is happy.

Another successful hunt. It had been fairly easy; they had gotten away with only a few small scratches and minimal bruising. They had come back to their motel room to get cleaned up and try for some much-needed rest before heading back to the bunker first thing in the morning. Naturally, Dean had beaten Sam to the bathroom, claiming that Sam always took way too long in the shower anyway and that he could wait a couple more minutes. 

About half an hour later, Dean was comfortably dressed in an old shirt and some sweatpants when he heard the water shut off. It was another ten or fifteen minutes before he heard any more sound from the bathroom. 

"Dean?" Sam called gently; there was no need to yell in the tiny motel room. 

"Hmm?" Dean replied.

"I need help." 

Dean might've chuckled if Sam hadn't sounded so shy. He couldn't quite keep himself from expecting the worst as he got out of bed and headed over to the bathroom door. 

It wasn't locked; they rarely did that. Whether that was for safety reasons or something else, neither of them really knew for sure. Dean wasn't surprised when the door opened without a fight, and he peeked his head into the bathroom to see Sam in nothing but a towel, standing in front of the clouded mirror with a comb stuck in the back of his hair. 

Dean came dangerously close to laughing this time, but the pitiful look on Sam's face made him bite his tongue. Sam put a lot of effort into his hair, and things like this stressed him out quite a bit sometimes. Dean was the only person that Sam trusted to help with problems like this, so he tried to keep his mouth shut about how overdramatic Sam would get. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to start shutting him out instead. 

"What happened?" Dean muttered as he stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked in the hope that the steam would clear out a little. 

"I don't know," was Sam's reply. "But I can't see it." He was pulling lightly on the comb as he spoke, trying to contort his head in the mirror as if trying to prove his point. 

"Okay, come here." Dean stepped closer to Sam and reached for the comb, having to stand on his toes in order to see properly due to Sam's ridiculous height. 

It was quiet for several minutes, aside from Sam's grunts and the sound of the comb catching in his hair as Dean worked as carefully as he could to get it out. 

" _Ow_ , Dean," Sam snapped, more out of annoyance than actual pain. 

"Sorry," Dean snapped back. "Maybe sit down then so I can actually _see_." His toes were starting to cramp up a little. 

With a sigh, Sam closed the toilet lid and took a seat there, crossing his arms much like a pouting child. Dean got back to work without another word, though he could sense that Sam was starting to get impatient. 

Dean quickly found the problem; there was a particularly large knot in the back of Sam's hair that the comb had gotten stuck on, and pulling on it had evidently made the situation much worse. He removed the comb as gently as he could (making absolutely sure Sam didn't see the strands of hair that came with it) and began using it to try and loosen the knot, starting at the ends and working his way up. 

"Did you get it?" Sam muttered, almost too quietly. 

"Workin' on it," Dean replied dismissively. 

"What does that mean? Is it bad?" 

"It's fine, Sam. Just relax." 

Sam, of course, did nothing of the sort. Though he trusted Dean, he could never keep from getting a little nervous whenever his hair was involved. 

Sam Winchester, the man who had literally been to Hell and back, was uneasy because his hair was a little tangled. This made no sense at all to Dean, but he knew that Sam really cared about his hair, so he always tried to be as helpful as he could. Sensing even more anxiety from the younger man, he decided it was time to say something about it. 

"Sammy," he said quietly, "look at me." 

Sam turned his head, looking confused and a little guilty as his eyes met Dean's. 

"You're gonna be fine. This is not the end of the world. Just try to relax a bit," Dean tried, placing a hand under his chin to lift his head. After a gentle kiss, Sam softened. He even managed a small smile after Dean pulled away to get back to work. It was silent for a very long time after that. 

Dean tried -- he really did -- to get the knot out. But the mirrors were once again crystal clear and Sam's hair was nearly dry before he realized that this one might be a lost cause. He had been trying for what must have been over an hour. He'd made plenty of progress, and the knot at least was only a quarter of its original size, but he simply couldn't untangle it. With a sigh of defeat and shaking hands, he reached over to the bathroom counter to search its drawers for a pair of scissors. 

Sam, of course, panicked again. 

"What are you doing?" he said nervously, and it almost sounded strange to hear his voice after they had both been silent for so long. Dean knew he couldn't just start snipping away without Sam asking any questions, but he had really hoped that maybe he'd gone into a trance or something. Anything that would prevent him from having to face this conversation. He still wasn't sure what to say, so he continued looking through the drawer until he had at least found the scissors. He hoped that they would spare him from having to explain exactly what had to happen. Sam looked so panicked that Dean's heart almost broke as he stared guiltily back.

"Dean, please don't-" 

"You'll be okay, Sammy. Really. It's just one little spot. You won't even be able to tell." Dean was satisfied that he had at least managed to find something reassuring to say. He looked at Sam, who was eyeing the scissors hesitantly and chewing on his bottom lip. It was silent for a long moment, and Dean simply stood there and waited. 

"Are you sure there's _nothing_ else that we can do?" Sam tried weakly. 

"You know I'd rather do anything else." 

"...Just, _please_ be careful."

"Of course." Dean still didn't completely understand his little brother's obsession with his hair, and maybe he never would, but he did know that Sam trusted him almost blindly sometimes and he wasn't going to let him down. With another reassuring kiss that lasted several seconds longer than he intended, he took the scissors and did what he had to do. 

It was really no big deal at all; Dean had nearly gotten the knot out, meaning that it only took a very small half-snip to solve the problem. With the knot gone, he placed the clump somewhere behind him where there might have been a trash can and picked up the comb again. 

"There," he chirped. "The evil hair monster has officially been neutralized." Sam chuckled, mainly because his brother was such an idiot sometimes, but he said nothing as Dean began casually combing through his hair as if he wasn't even thinking about it. Sam absolutely loved it when Dean brushed his hair for him. Something told him that Dean secretly enjoyed it, too, if his gentle touches and focused silence were anything to go by. 

After a while, though, Dean put the comb down on the counter and grabbed Sam's shoulders, gently pulling him to his feet. Secretly still freaking out, Sam immediately made his way in front of the mirror before he realized that he couldn't actually see the back of his own head. Dean grinned, stepping over and turning him sideways. 

"Look, it's right here," he mumbled, picking through Sam's hair until he found the slightly shorter strand and held it out so Sam could (maybe?) see it. Then, for good measure, he picked up another random piece to compare it to. "Can't even see it unless you're lookin' for it." 

Sam had to twist his neck at a strange angle and could only really see it though his peripheral vision, but he could see enough to know that Dean was right. And as his favorite person in the world ruffled his hair so it stuck up all over the place, he could only manage a halfhearted slap to his shoulder in retaliation. 

"Thanks, Dean," he almost whispered. "Really." 

"Anytime, Rapunzel," was Dean's cheery response. "Just do me one favor." 

Ignoring the nickname, Sam turned to look at Dean once his tone switched from joking to a little more serious.

"Hmm?" He inquired, relishing the familiar feeling of Dean's arms slipping around his neck to pull him closer. 

"Don't spend to long in here," was Dean's reply. "Come to bed soon, okay?" If Dean hadn't looked so sincere in his request, Sam might've found it funny.

"I hope you don't mean you wanna have sex _now_ ," Sam said, more gently than he normally would because Dean was acting really lovey and clingy right now and Sam was thoroughly enjoying it. It's just, they'd had a really long day. He was tired. 

"Huh-uh," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "It was a rough day. I just miss you, is all." And as Dean buried his face in Sam's bare chest, Sam was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he was entirely naked aside from the tiny, puke-green motel towel around his waist. 

"Just let me get dressed, okay?" Sam responded quietly, cautiously, almost afraid that he'd snap Dean out of whatever fragile mood he was in right now. Dean only nodded, running a thumb over Sam's chin and looking up at him with an expression so full of love that it made Sam's head spin. One more fleeting kiss and Dean made his way back out to their king-sized bed. 

As Sam pulled his clothes on, alone in the dingy bathroom of some hole-in-the-wall motel room in the middle of God-knows-where, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge that he would follow his brother to the ends of the Earth. He was almost sure that that day would come, someday. But for now, he settled for following Dean into bed to watch some shitty television until they fell asleep in each other's arms.


End file.
